Rings
by Zion Angel
Summary: There is no white dress, cake, minister, guests or vows. Neither says a word when they marry, alone on the balcony between the sea and the stars. - T/P


This could be incredibly sappy and corny, I don't know. I just thought of the idea, and I thought this might just be the sort of thing Tony and Pepper would do. Enjoy! :)

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Rings

By ZionAngel

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The Sunday afternoon is quiet and peaceful. They savor the rare day together.

They sleep in. Thoughts of any kind of work do not enter Pepper's mind when she finally wakes beside Tony, nor when they make a simple lunch and eat together at the kitchen table. Outside, it's raining gently. They watch the drops slide down the balcony windows, and the haze obscures the horizon between the sea and the sky, and it makes everything soft and beautiful. It's relaxing, and when they finish eating, they curl up together on the couch, staring out at the world. She does not speak, and neither does he; they only enjoy the comfort of each other's arms.

The exciting, dangerous, passionate, whirlwind life they normally find themselves living does not exist today. As they sit entwined on the couch, there is nothing but the two of them, and he is more than just all she has, he is all she wants and needs. For now, for this one brief day, they are just two people, in love and happy.

They sit together for over an hour before he slowly reaches over, taking her left hand in his. She squeezes gently and snuggles a little closer into his shoulder. He kisses her hair, and massages his fingers over hers. She sighs softly at the touch, and after a while, she turns her head up to kiss him. The kiss is chaste and tender, and it keeps on going for several long minutes until they pull apart, his eyes still locked onto hers. A little smile forms at her lips as she thinks of how much she loves him, how he makes every last part of her heart and soul happy. Until she fell in love with him, finally told him and heard him whisper the same three little words back to her, she had never believed that she would ever be this happy. And now, she can't picture a future without him, can't even imagine what it would be like. She doesn't want to.

She searches his eyes in the dim light, looking deep into them, and she can see the same thoughts there. Those eyes slowly turn serious as she looks into them, and his fingers stop rubbing her whole hand. Instead, they focus onto her left ring finger, and his thumb slides back and forth along the base. She looks down at their hands, watching them carefully for a long time, before she turns back to him. She searches even deeper into those eyes, maybe deeper than she ever has before, and she feels him doing the same. She sees love, want and need, a little uncertainty, and then she understands, very specifically, what he is thinking. She likes what he is thinking.

She squeezes his hand. "Rings would be good."

Their left hands stay entwined as they stand, and go upstairs to get dressed.

--

It is still raining when he pulls out of the garage and onto the road. The ride to Tiffany's is comfortably silent and permeated only by the white noise of raindrops on the windshield, though something hangs in the air between them, some mix of anticipation, happiness, and love. The rain lets up just as he parks along Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, and he turns to find her smiling softly at him. She slips her hand into his as they go inside.

She already knows more or less what she wants, and he just watches her intently as she tries on several similar rings. The smile she wears never leaves her face, and every time she turns to him for his opinion, her eyes are sparkling. It's not until she has made her choice and he begins to search for a ring that matches hers that he realizes he has been smiling the whole time as well.

He pulls her close when the clerk boxes the rings for them, and brushes his lips against hers.

As soon as they are home and out of the car, she takes his hand again, holds the two pale blue boxes with white ribbons in the other, and leads him upstairs. He follows, wondering exactly what she has in mind. He hadn't much thought this through, not past the part where he loves her, the part where she makes him more unbearably happy than he had ever known was possible, the part where he knows he could never return to life without her and thinks they should have something tangible binding them together. The rest, it seems, will be up to her.

Everything seems to slow down as she takes him out to the balcony. She stops at the little table out there, and sets the two boxes down. She turns those brilliant eyes to him for a moment, and he wants to say something - he doesn't know what - but she presses a finger lightly to her lips, and the urge vanishes.

Her slender fingers move to untie the white ribbons, and everything begins to sink in. He hears the waves crashing on the cliffs below them and the sound of the gentle breeze. It's dark by now, and all of the clouds are gone, leaving the sky brimming with stars. The full moon shines down on them, onto her hair and skin, and it shimmers in her eyes - _God_, he just can't stop looking at them tonight. The light makes her even more beautiful than she usually is.

This is really happening, he realizes as he watches her pull two black velvet boxes from the blue ones. For almost his whole life he had never thought that he would have this moment, never even wanted it before her, and he had certainly never imagined that it would be like this. But, he thinks, watching her open one box and then the other, this is so much better than a church filled with guests they hardly know, some poufy white dress, flowers, a cake and clichéd vows. This is happening because he loves her and she loves him, and they already know, deep down, that they will spend the rest of their lives together, and this is their promise to each other. No one else needs to be here for it. And there is _so_ much more love and dedication in it this way. He decides, as she turns to him, holding both rings, that he could not ask for anything more perfect.

Every other thought running through his head disappears as she walks slowly towards him, beaming, and his focus shifts to her and whatever rite she plans to perform. She stops several inches away from him, and tilts her head to meet his in a soft kiss. She lifts his hand to place the matching rings in his palm, and he stares at them - both simple platinum bands, with small diamonds set in a channel the whole way around hers. She presses her own palm over his, sets the other on the bottom, and he finishes with his other hand on the very top.

She smiles gently and gazes into his eyes. They stay that way, and as the minutes pass by, he feels his love for her slowly building inside of him, circling and growing and making his heart quicken. Just as he wonders if she is feeling the same thing, if this is what she wants him to feel, she closes her eyes and squeezes their her hands together. He can almost feel heat, an energy of some sort flowing through her skin, and he suddenly understands. He follows her actions, and pours all of the love and joy coursing through him into the rings, where it blends and merges with hers. And just when the last of it makes the move from his skin to the metal, she loosens her grip. When he opens his eyes, her smile is back, waiting for him.

She separates their hands. She takes his ring and lifts it to her lips, and she kisses it so gently that it's almost as if he can feel it. His heart races in his chest as she takes his left hand, and slowly slips the ring onto his finger. The metal is warm, and he knows that it is more than simple heat. He kisses hers with just a bit more pressure, and as he puts it in its place on her hand, his heartbeat becomes slower and stronger.

They exchange no vows. The only promises they need or will ever want are found in each other's eyes, and they are far more powerful than any words that could ever be uttered.

She closes the last distance between them, and with one slow, deep kiss, it is complete.

The rest of their evening is as peaceful and blissful and perfect as the whole day has been. There is no need for words, and they still speak very little through dinner, a dance he insists upon, and long stretches of time where they can do little else but smile at each other. She is the one who eventually leads them upstairs, and they whisper _I love you_ to one another as they make love with a slow intensity.

They lie in bed with their limbs tangled together, enjoying the last moments of this day as they slowly drift to sleep. His hand rests across her chest, and the last sensation he feels is the soft flutter of his wife's heart.

--

When she wakes, the world has reappeared around them, and they are thrown back into work, missions, banter, excitement, and danger and none of it slows for even a minute. Life has given them their day, and now demands their return.

They get up and shower and dress, and he makes them coffee as she goes through their packed schedule - four meetings, a press conference, and an inspection of some improvements to the factory. They go through the day with almost no indication that anything has changed. She laughs, though, in the elevator between meetings when her husband brushes her hair from her face and kisses her playfully, and cannot keep a grin off of his face.

People notice eventually, friends, acquaintances and strangers alike. Some ask questions - which are usually left unanswered. Most say nothing, because between the fact that the pair never makes any mention of it and the fact that it's _them_, they know this is just how it is, and how it will be from now on.

The rings change little between the two of them. Their love and expectations of what is to come stay the same. But there is the tiniest shift that both feel, of one more small thing uniting and binding them to one another.

Their wedding was far from traditional, but he still surprises her that Friday afternoon, when he takes her out on the yacht. They spend the weekend - their honeymoon, she supposes - in Avalon.


End file.
